Seven Days of Smut 5: Forbidden Friday
by Sinister Scribe
Summary: Umm...i missed the oppertunity with sunscreen in 'Temporary Insanity' by sending them to Scotland. Teehee. Rated for adult themes, feelings and graphic descriptions. nudgenudge winkwink.


**Okay, childers, this contains the HAWT rating and if y'all don't like that kinda thing, don't let the reviewer button hit you on the ass on the way out. **

**Um, aye, well, since nobody liked Thursday's abysmal effort all that much I thought I'd better update sharpish with this one, just to gloss over, y'know? **

**Egads, so tired. Matinee performance this afternoon, a booking of thirty nine in the restaurant designed to take fifty. IF THAT!! **

**Halp, says I.**

**Gimme KAWFEEE, says they.**

**And it kinda went downhill from there. And GUESS WHAT, I get to do it all again on Saturday. Aren't I the fucking blessed one? **

**::mutters darkly, shakes fist at world::**

**so gimme muchas reviews to appease me. **

**Forbidden Friday**

Cuddy sighed and shifted on her towel. She rested her chin against her folded arms and just let the bliss of sun-bathing in her back yard wash over her. It was early September but the sun still beat down on New Jersey with a fiery scowl and those that didn't wish for skin-cancer had long ago disappeared inside. But not Cuddy, it was a little after five and she was already home from the hospital. She had no intention of going back there until at least twelve o'clock tomorrow and was content to lie here in her bikini bottoms and Gucci sunglasses and just soak up some rays. The latest bestseller that the book store clerk had recommended lay splayed on its pages forgotten in the manicured grass. Her skin glistened with the coconut scented sun screen that she had procured from the drugstore on her way home. The Caribbean scent filled her head and did wonderful things to swiping away the tensions of the past week.

Ugh, speaking of House, the man had her…completely losing it.

So, his leg was better. She was glad for him. Really. But the way he kept on turning up on her doorstep and talking her into bed just had to stop. The man was bad for her. Forbidden fruit. Which was probably why her back kept on meeting with the sheets with alarming frequency of late. Cuddy sighed again, this time a little more gustily than the first. She plucked at a few blades of grass and sternly told herself that she didn't want him to turn up tonight. She didn't want to be involved with him for a reason. Remember that? Reason? Ever since his leg had been better he had been different. He had felt invincible, had been…almost cheerful really.

He had turned up that first night after he'd started back at the hospital. Soaked from taking a dip in the campus fountain. That night she had been strong, or rather, he'd had a patient to treat. The next night however…she had opened the window again and he had slithered inside when she had turned away to get him a towel because he had been soaked again. She was under no illusions as to whether or not he had planned the whole thing. Greg House had turned up at her bedroom window that night with seduction in mind and he had gotten it. A stain of heat flushed Cuddy's cheeks. He had gotten it and then some, the sneaking bastard.

Not that she should complain. She hadn't slept this well in years. Apparently running five miles a day just didn't wear you out like five hours of sex did.

The thing was, she didn't mind sleeping with him. Hell, never mind worrying about it, she looked forward to it! Which was bad. Bad because if his leg didn't stay well, if the treatment didn't stick, then she knew that it could break him. She knew that he would push her away like he had done to Stacy and he had loved Stacy. He didn't love her, she was…a happy distraction. Something to pass the time with.

Lisa scowled at herself. She had promised herself that she wouldn't think about this tonight. She just wanted to lie here and absorb a horrifically unhealthy dose of UV radiation, health warnings be damned. She was sunbathing in her own yard and she could turn lobster red if she wanted. Not that she would with SPF 85 coconut oil, but hey, she was a sensible rebel.

In fact, she should probably go in soon. The sun was still high but she wasn't used to baking like this. Perhaps she should flip and toast the other side now. So she was without her top, with the high hedges and neighbours on the other sides of massive yards, she was pretty much assured privacy. She pressed her hands against the plush towel underneath her and froze as a small sound reached her ears. Turning her head slowly, pointedly not moving another muscle, she looked around to see none other than the big bad doctor Gregory House leaning against the trunk of her apple tree, basking in the shade and crunching on one of the apples he had plucked from the tree. He grinned at her over the top of his aviator sunglasses and chewed thoughtfully.

"You were about to turn over." His grin reached wolf-like proportions. "Don't stop on my account."

"House, you…!" Cuddy trailed off helplessly as she realised she couldn't sit up without flashing him a great deal of flesh. Flesh that she had resolved he wouldn't be seeing anytime soon. Like, this millennium. So she stayed where she was and settled for glaring at him. "What are you doing here?" She demanded coldly and he just smiled some more and took another crunching bite from the apple. Cuddy did try not to notice how the juice slid down over his lower lip and how his tongue snaked out to lap the moisture away. She was almost sure that the whimper she had been battling hadn't been out loud. Her gaze licked over him and she nearly did groan then. He was wearing _the_ outfit. _That_ outfit that did horribly hormonal things to her, had her forgetting that she wasn't allowed to indulge in him. That she wasn't allowed one more taste, one more touch, one more hot night with him.

Worn leather biker jacket, hanging open over that chest that was still well defined even though steel was threading his unruly hair. Tight white tee shirt, worn, _worn, _nearly white jeans and boots instead of his usual sneakers. Cuddy swallowed as she looked up at him and tried to edge the towel around her chest so she could get up and, if necessary, hightail it to the house and lock him out. Not that she was afraid of him, anything he did to her would be entirely of her consent, but she was a trifle afraid of what _she_ might do. Bastard, he was on to her.

He shrugged and finished the apple. "Not much at the moment, taking in the view more than anything else." He bobbed his eyebrows at her in that way of his.

It was _not_ attractive, endearing or arousing, Cuddy told herself. Unfortunately the rest of her didn't entirely agree. She twitched her fingers around the corner of the towel and tired to edge it up around her breasts, which was easier intended than done when one was built like Lisa Cuddy happened to be built. God, of all the times not to be flat-chested!

House huffed and tossed the apple core over the top of the nearest hedge, Cuddy opened her mouth to scold him but decided against it. Picking her battles was a little bit of a higher priority at the moment. "Don't be like that, Cuddles." He scolded her gently and stepped out of the shade of the tree. The scent of apple blossom was high in the air and he was still licking the juice from the crisp fruit from his lips. "I'm just here for some company."

"You'll have to excuse me if I don't believe you." She said dryly and hitched the towel a little tighter around her body, finally risking sitting up.

"Okay, I promise, I won't touch you until you touch me." He grinned when he said this, towering over her and peering down at her with those sky blue eyes of his gleaming with amusement.

Cuddy snorted with a disdain she didn't feel. "Alright then, what do you really want?"

"Well, I want you, but you're being difficult." He almost pouted and then dropped suddenly to his knees in front of her. She jumped up into a sitting position, completely forgetting her towel and any modicum of modesty as she nearly yelled at him.

"House, you said…!"

"That I did, and I haven't touched you." His gaze raked over her as he pulled of his sunglasses and tossed them away to bounce across the grass. "Yet." His growling voice was laden with promise and Cuddy swallowed hard, yanking the towel up to cover herself. better late than never, she supposed. "Now, since I'm not allowed to touch, you can pass me that suns screen over there. Some of us have sensitive complexions."

Cuddy let her eyes travel over the tanned skin of his face, neck and hands and arched a brow behind her sunglasses. Never losing her death grip on her towel, she passed him the bottle with the slosh of warm liquid echoing between them. He grinned as he took it, deliberately letting his fingers brush hers in an electric snap of sensation. She shifted uncomfortably and briefly wondered if this was how Eve had felt in the garden of Eden. Forget some stupid snake handbag-in-waiting, Gregory House could tempt any woman to sinning. Again and again and again…

She snapped back to reality when his leather jacket thumped against the grass. Her eyes flew to his.

"What are you doing?" She squeaked.

He smiled at her, almost innocently. She doubted he'd been innocent a day in his life but she supposed everyone deserved the benefit of the doubt.

"I'm going to sunbathe. Can't do that with all my clothes on, can I?"

Her breath caught when his broad long fingered hands went to the hem of his white tee shirt. He pulled it up over golden skin that showed he didn't need any more tanning. Revealing inches more of his belly as he pulled the shirt up with a sensual undulating movement of his body. Maybe it was just the way she was seeing things but the Davidoff advert had nothing on House. The tee shirt joined the jacket and Cuddy stared at it with a small whimper. She had a sudden premonition that she wasn't going to be sleeping alone tonight. She should get up. She should get up and walk to the house, get inside and shut and lock the doors. She should ignore him. She should send him home and never think about this again.

But she didn't want to.

He was still kneeling in front of her. Offering himself to her. Bastard. She swallowed convulsively when he reached for the sun screen bottle and weighed it in one large hand. A hand that was so strong and gentle. A hand that could bring her pleasure with a slide of his finger and a stroke of his palm. Oh God, such pleasure. She hadn't screamed like that in years.

His skin was already shining. Though it was early evening, it was still hot enough to bake a tourist. Cuddy's mouth was dry and she momentarily thought about dehydration. She should get a drink. She should have brought one out with her. That way she could have poured the icy liquid over her heated body and maybe dashed some sanity back over her. He uncapped the bottle.

Oh fuck.

He upended it over his arm and a dribble of the creamy liquid splashed out and slid over his bicep, his elbow and his forearm. Cuddy tried to swallow but she couldn't anymore. Her grip on her towel slackened slightly but she rallied herself and held on. She just had to get through him oiling himself up and then she would be okay. It was just visual. She could handle it. His other hand slid over his oiled skin and smoothed the lotion over his arm and the muscles roped along it. She didn't even have to look, she told herself. She should look away.

Right now.

Any time.

She couldn't here eyes were fixed on him like her life depended on it.

More oil splashed over the other arm and his hand smoothed over that arm too. She remembered those hands sliding over her skin. What would it be like to have him rubbing oil into her skin? Cuddy's head spun at the possibilities of that. She didn't even have to let him have her. She could just ask him to do her back. Yeah right, she nearly snorted at herself, was that before or after she begged him to do her front?

Hell, or just do her period.

A white line of sun oil scrawled across his chest, spattering onto the sparse steel coloured hairs there. His hands smeared through the line together and she could barely breathe. His eyes had never left her. He knew exactly what kind of effect this was having on her and, looking down at the bulge behind the straining fly of his jeans, he wasn't entirely unaffected himself. It would be so easy, to just reach out and touch him. Slide her hands through the slick oil all over him. Their skins would glide over each other with delicious friction then. Cuddy felt heat slide through her veins and pool pulsing between her legs. Her blood was thick and syrupy with lust. It spun through her head and left her unable to focus on anything but the man in front of her.

He was finished with his chest now. The oil not entirely rubbed in, a white droplet of it sliding down over the curve of his pectoral to catch on his nipple. Cuddy couldn't remember if the stuff she had bought was organic and she could lick it off of him but she really, _really_ wanted to. His back arched backwards and he angled the bottle so that droplets of the buttery cream spattered down over his belly, pooled slightly in his navel and even spotted onto the hem of his jeans. One hand slid through the droplets, smearing and spreading them over his skin, until his fingers butted up against the snap of his jeans.

"Ready to touch me yet?" He asked her, his voice as hoarse as hers felt. Her eyes flew back to his and then dropped again to where the heel of his palm was now sliding over his belly and scrubbing up against the snap of his jeans. His fingers were splayed over the rigid line of his cock behind the denim and Cuddy nearly choked she was so hot for him. She shook her head wildly before she could think better of it. She didn't even trust herself to speak.

"Fine, guess I'll have to take matters into my own hands then." He grinned at her and flicked the button on his jeans. The material gaped and Cuddy swore when she realised he wasn't wearing shorts. He lifted the bottle deliberately so she could see and poured a puddle of liquid into his palm, it dribbled between his fingers and slid down over his wrist in a tantalising trail that she itched to follow. He tossed the bottle aside and held the zipper between his thumb and forefinger. The rasp of the zip sliding down seemed to be the loudest thing on earth to her and she was sure she wasn't ready for what was coming next but she was equally as sure that she couldn't look away. She could only stare as the full engorged length of his cock came into view.

"See anything you like?" He asked her and her only reply was a slight whimper.

"Ah well, while you decide…" He let that hang in the air as he tilted his palm full of sunscreen and let it drip down onto the sensitive head of his cock. He hissed and gritted his teeth at the sensation. He slid his oil-slick hand down his pants and fisted his straining erection on one hand. Cuddy was sure she was going to pass out when he stroked himself, just like, oh my god…

House grinned as he heard her choked whimper. His chest heaved, this was nearly killing him. The woman had far more control than he had ever suspected, though part of him realised he must be putting on one hell of a show. He watched her, flushed face and throat, the towel in her hand having slipped down to reveal the creamy curves of her breast and the dark spike of a nipple peaking out over the fabric. Good God when he had her he was going to fuck her until she screamed for it. He couldn't hold back a moan of pleasure as his slick fingers slid along his length. It was good, but not nearly as good as how she felt wrapped hot and wet around him. Fire pulsed along his shaft and he let his head fall back on a growl of lust as he swiped his thumb over the sensitive head. He eased off a little, not wanting this to be over before he really got started. His eyes met hers and he waited a moment until her glassy eyes focused on him through the haze of arousal that fogged her gaze.

"Fucking hell, Lisa, take me." He begged her and she blinked, her head tilting to the side as she considered him. The towel dropped like the flag at a starting line and she launched herself at him. He barely caught her against his chest before her mouth crashed over his, her tongue duelling with him. Her hands slid against his oiled chest, his belly and lower to wrap over his own hand around his cock.

He groaned against her mouth as she used his own hand to pump him to a knife edge of control. Okay, enough touching him, now to oil her up. He grinned as he pulled away and snatched up the bottle of oil, his hand tangled in her hair and angled her head back. She gasped and twisted but didn't resist him. Her limbs shook with excitement and she moaned for him. He upended the bottle and drew a line of cream from the edge of her jaw, looping over her breasts and a slinking signature over her belly. He dropped the bottle and smoothed his palm over her throat, leaving a slick trail behind him. He swiped his hand over her breast and belly, more spreading the cream rather than rubbing it in any. He released his hold on her hair and pushed her down on the grass, sliding his hips between her shaking legs. His mouth came down over hers, resuming their first desperate kiss while leaving his hands free to roam over her body. Her glasses had come off at some point, he didn't know where they were and he could care less too. She moaned and arched to him, his hands sliding over the curves of her breasts, cream sliding between their skins in a rapidly heating barrier, melting away with each molten touch.

"Oh God…" She groaned for him, head thrashing back and forth in denial of the sensations he could wring from her with nothing more than your everyday sunscreen and a sinfully talented pair of hands that should have been illegal. His fingers plucked at her nipples, twisting on the edge of pain and she gasped, hips bucking up against his and frustrated at the thin barrier of her bikini panties between them.

"House…" She mewled. "Take them off. Inside me. Now." She was nearly pleading now and she couldn't care less. "Please!"

"You made me wait." He pointed out to her and she growled then, her nails scoring against his back.

"Now!"

"As the lady wishes." He mocked her gently and tangled his fingers in her bikini panties, dragging them down off her twisting hips, down the long length of her legs and finally off to throw them away, out of his sight, never to cover her from him again. He kind of liked the idea of that. He growled and gripped her hips, dragging her across the lawn and back under the arch of his body. He felt like a tiger. He felt so strong since his leg had been healed. On the heels of that thought came the heart clenching fear that this was all borrowed time. That she wouldn't want him once he was pain ridden and miserable again but he pushed it away. For now she was his, this moment, this night, she was his for now and he'd hold onto her for as long as he could.

It was difficult to hold onto her, as oiled up as they both were, but they enjoyed slipping and sliding against each other. His jeans were shoved down to just above his knees, she didn't really care about having him naked, she just wanted him inside her right this very minute. The sun oil sucked against their skins, gluing them together and sliding over them both.

He pinned her under his weight and she wriggled against him on a purr of pleasure. He felt so good heavy over her like this. His hand manacled both her wrists in an iron grip and he pinned them against the grass above her head. She arched, helpless and loving it. Her heels dug into his lower back as if spurring him on and he laughed against her throat, his teeth nipping her while his free hand slid down her body, detouring to flick a hard nipple between his fingers, sliding fluidly over her flat twitching belly and sliding between her legs to tease her mercilessly there. She moaned harder, his mouth muffling the sound, while two long fingers slid into her and his thumb rolled sinfully over her clit. Her teeth sank into his lip and he growled in answer, the sound vibrating through her body. Then his hand left her and twin sensations roiled through her, bereft at the loss of sensation and the rush of anticipation at what was to come.

He didn't disappoint her.

The hard head of his cock slipped over her wet heat and she nearly passed out then and there. His hips flexed in a delicious twist that had him thrusting _just_ inside her. She was nearly screaming now. Every red hot inch of him slid into her with fiery shockwaves that rattled up her spine and had her gasping for breath. Every time he thrust a little harder and she convinced herself she couldn't take any more. Then he'd move again and she'd be begging for more. His head dipped against her collar bone as he finally slid all the way into her, his hips grinding against hers, his breath washing over her slick skin in hot gusts as he shook for control. She loved that. That he trembled for her.

Oh Lord, then he began to move.

Hard, and she meant _hard. _So hard she thought her bones might melt from it. Fast too, none of this lazy-summer-afternoon sex, House gave her exactly what she wanted. Jackhammer sex, too rough and too primal for her to think through it. Deep. Every time he rushed into her to the hilt so far inside her she thought she could feel him in her throat.

He licked, he thrust and fucked.

She screamed, she writhed and bucked.

She could feel her orgasm boiling under her skin. The heat set under it since she'd first looked up at him casually eating an apple standing over her. It flexed and roiled deep inside her, threatening to explode with the least provocation with devastating effect.

She couldn't wait.

Then, something happened, she lashed out or he bucked his hips against her in a new angle and then she was in it. Pleasure cascading through her body in a mind numbing cascade she never wanted to end. She was aware of him carrying her through it. Crooning nonsense things to her while she floated in the non-existence of that post-orgasmic glow. He gentled her back down to earth and, only when he was satisfied she was completely sated, did he set his teeth to her neck and let loose.

He took her so hard and fast then that anything previous had seemed gentle foreplay. He was ferocious over her, pinning her down and taking her as hard as he dared. Every line of his face stood out in arousal, his muscles flexed and bunched in a visual symphony of molten metal under his skin, and in that gentling evening light, he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She would never tell him, she didn't think she could, and he would never tell her, but that was okay. Things went unsaid between them. It was the way of their relationship. She twisted her wrists out of his grip and he released her to braced himself on both hands, his entire body lunging. She took his face in her hands and smoothed her palms over his beard roughened jaw. Bringing his lips down over hers, she kissed him as he fell headlong over the edge, his harsh bellow of completion softened by her yielding mouth, followed by her gasp of surprised ecstasy as her body gathered itself and threw her after him into that delicious void of nirvana where only he could lead her.

His body went limp, every muscle striking en masse and his weight settled over her like a warm living blanket. Her fingers tangled in his sweat damp hair and she revelled in the feel of him still deep inside her. his tongue lapped at the coconut/salty taste of her and he smiled, inching his way upward with soft sucking kisses to take her mouth in a lazy 'thanks for one hell of a lay, babe' kiss and she returned it in kind. Understanding and reciprocating without qualm. He wondered how long that might last, her uneasy but accepting attitude towards his impromptu nightly visits. He pulled away slightly, too look down at her flushed face, heat high on her striking cheekbones. He traced his finger down the proud bridge of her nose and smiled softly, moving his thumb to smudge her kiss swollen lips.

"I like this look on you." He finally murmured and she couldn't wipe her dreamy blessed out expression.

"Hmmmm?" She couldn't even form words yet. His grin widened. He had done that to her. Not anyone else. Him. No longer would he look on and want.

"The 'just fucked and how' look."

"Humm." She replied and wriggled under him to rub her face against his chest and inhale deeply. He liked this habit of hers. Like a cat in catnip. "Ewf ginnik et sumbrnnn." She said and he frowned down at her.

"What?"

She lifted her head with a great show of reluctance and explained to him slowly as if he were particularly dense.

"You're going to get sunburned."

"With all this sunscreen on me?"

A wicked glint entered her eyes. "You never did get around to doing your back." She pointed out.

His head canted to the side. "Neither I did. Is that an offer?"

She smirked then and pushed at his shoulders, rolling her hips and flipping him onto his back so that she straddled him. He hissed between clenched teeth as the movement caused her tight inner muscles to flex around him in a velvet grip. "My back's done." She pointed out easily and lowered herself so that she lay over his glistening chest. "We could…sunbathe for a while more."

His fingers tangled in her hair and brought her mouth to within a whisper of his. "That we could." Then he kissed her and didn't stop for a long time after that.

…_**three weeks later…**_

The knock came late at night, not after she was in bed, but late enough to pique her curiosity as to who it could be at this hour. Really she should have known that only one person pounded on her door with the echoing tone of wood meeting wood. She slipped up onto her toes and peered through the peep hole only to bump back down onto the flats of her feet in surprise. She hadn't seen him in over a fortnight. Not since his leg had started hurting again. He hadn't said as much, but the evidence of the cane at work had been damning. Of course, with the return of the cane, the evening and weekend visits had ceased abruptly. She had told him she'd been sorry that his leg hurt again but she didn't think he knew exactly how deeply she felt for him. Not only for what he had lost, the pain he was now constantly in again, but for her loss. She didn't pretend to understand it entirely, but she guessed that he didn't think she'd want him if he was pain riddled and leaning on his cane.

He was of course, completely wrong, but she'd called him a stubborn ass on several occasions since meeting him twenty years ago and saw no reason to change her favourite descriptive terms regarding him.

She unlatched the door and found him standing on the other side.

His gaze started at her feet, clad in sandals with deep blue ribbons winding up around her calves. Up over the sleek length of her legs, which she knew he loved, to the ruffled hem of her white summer dress, patterned with china blue flowers. Her hair was loose about her shoulders, the way he preferred it. She was perhaps over dressed for an evening alone, but she had felt constricted in her suits at the hospital and had wanted something soft and feminine to wear upon coming home.

"Yes?" She prompted him when his eyes finally met hers.

All the air left his lungs in a single gust and he smiled a half, boyish, smile at her and her heart missed a few beats. He seemed to be startled at her question.

"I have to have a reason for everything now?" He demanded of her and she didn't miss the trace of panic in his voice. He was nervous. She wondered idly what about. She had known from the beginning that their nightly interludes would end. One way or the other. She didn't want to fool herself with the false hope that he might actually invest some feeling in what was between them, so she hadn't let herself.

"I just think it would be nice to know why you're hammering on my door at," she made a show of checking her watch. 'Half past ten at night?"

He moved into the doorway, forcing her to step back and let him in or go chest to chest with him. She was half tempted to force the contact between them, just to see what he would do. But she stepped back and let him pass at the last minute. He stood in her hallways and made no move to go any further as she shut the door behind him and moved to stand opposite him in the narrow passageway.

"I…" He started and then trailed off. Apparently unable to think of what to say. She was mildly surprised at this, but hid it well with her blatant curiosity as to why he was here. He looked at her a moment and then moved with such suddenness that she didn't even have time to step back.

He didn't kiss her, as she had expected, or hoped, but his arms slid around her waist, tracing over her bare back, where the neckline of her dress dipped nearly to her waist. His head came down and he buried his face in her hair. One hand at her hip, the other sliding up to tangle in her curls while he inhaled her perfume and shampoo scent deeply.

Cuddy was stunned. She stiffened in surprise and then, slowly, her arms crept around him. Wrapping around his shoulders and holding him back, her cheek resting on his shoulder. She could feel his heart thumping steadily against hers. The feeling she'd fallen asleep with the last few weeks. She had felt lonely without it. She hadn't realised how much exactly until this moment.

"I miss you."

Her eyes flashed open in surprise. His voice was low and heavy with emotion in her ear and she angled her head to look up into his eyes. He turned his head to see her and gave her a smile and a small shrug.

"I know you probably don't…" She shushed him with a finger over his lips and shook her head gently.

"I did, do, miss you too." She smiled at him. Unbelievably pleased that he had told her. that he would confess this to her. His arms tightened around her and she rested her cheek back against his shoulder. She shut her eyes briefly and gave a contented sigh. His thumb rubbed small circles against her hip and she felt heat bloom under her skin through the thin material of her dress and her heart rate picked up while a wicked grin kicked at her lips.

"You know what?"

"Hmm?"

Her smile widened and she lifted her head to look at him. "I think I've still got some of that coconut sun oil left."

His answering grin was as sensual as she had hoped it would be. He pulled her a fraction closer, turning their embrace from tender to simmering with an inch of movement.

"Do you really?"


End file.
